


The Seeker and the Nightingale

by Revans_Mask



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Action/Adventure, F/F, Kidnapping, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-06
Updated: 2015-06-06
Packaged: 2018-03-21 13:18:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3693728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Revans_Mask/pseuds/Revans_Mask
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On her way to the Conclave with Leliana and Varric, tragedy strikes, forcing Cassandra Pentaghast to confront her growing feelings for her fellow Hand of the Divine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is a collaboration with AmityN7, who doesn't post here, but who has done a lot of fine Mass Effect work on FF.net that you should check out.

The Ferelden night was cold, but this close to the fire, Cassandra was untouched by its chill.  Roasted rabbit was far from the best meal she’d ever eaten, but it was fresh and hot, and that was more than enough for her.  As she washed it down with a drink from her water skin, she stole a glance at the woman next to her.  Leliana seemed to be enjoying her food as well, licking her fingers clean with relish.

“I take it you approve,” Cassandra commented.

“I do.  When I travelled with Warden, we often hunted our dinner.  Being here, on our way to Haven, reminds me of those days.” 

“You seem to miss them.  It’s strange to think someone could be nostalgic about battling against a Blight.”

“Oh, I could imagine you feeling that way,” Leliana teased.  “You only seem happy when we have a good battle to fight.”

 _Not only then_ , Cassandra thought to herself.  The more time they spent together, the more she was coming to enjoy Leliana’s company.  For her, there had always been a hard line between being a lady and being a warrior, but her friend seemed to straddle it effortless. One moment, she could be the deadly Sister Nightingale, Left Hand of the Divine, and the next, the elegant bard, charming everyone she met.

She had certainly charmed Cassandra.  If only the Seeker could figure out what she should do about that.

“It isn’t just the fighting that I miss anyway,” Leliana continued.  “There was something romantic about those nights in the wilderness.”  She smiled, her expression bright in the glow of the fire.  “At least the Hero and Alistair seemed to think so.”

Theirs was a story everyone knew by now.  The daughter of a Dalish clan who’d risen to become the Commander of the Grey and the lover of the new King of Ferelden.  It wasn’t quite the tale Cassandra was interested in though, and so she tentatively asked, “Were they the only ones?  Who found romance that is.”

“I’m not sure that Zevran’s escapades qualify as romance,” Leliana quipped, “So I suppose they were.  Unless you count Marjolaine’s attempt to kill me.  I think, in some twisted way, she considered that to be a part of our relationship.”

Leliana had mentioned Marjolaine before.  The older woman had been her mentor before she betrayed her.  She had also been her lover, and Cassandra couldn’t hide her curiosity about their time together.  “If you don’t think it too bold, might I ask...what was that like?  Being with her?”

“Cassandra! I’ve never known you to gossip,” Leliana laughed.  “I thought that was my role. Not that you give me very much to work with.  Other than your fondness for those novels, that is.”

“Novels?”  She gave Leliana an indignant look.  “I do not know what you’re talking about.”

“Then those weren’t your books I found hidden under your pillow.   _Chantry of Desire_ seemed especially interesting...”

She knew she was blushing, but maybe she could use Leliana’s discovery to hide her real interest.  “All right,” she conceded, “That was why I was asking.  The book had some… scenes between a Templar and the Reverend Mother she was assigned to protect.”

“Scenes?” Leliana asked with a playful smile. “What kind of scenes might those be, I wonder.”

Cassandra dipped her head to hide the increasing redness in her cheeks. “Forgive my foolishness.”

“No, please, go on.”

“I...I have not been to bed with many,” Cassandra admitted after making sure there was not anyone else around to hear her. “There was little time for romance among the Seekers but I admire the concept.”

“Yes, there’s nothing else quite like it. Love can make fools or demons out of the best of us.” Leliana opined, a wistful note in her voice.

Cassandra stoked the fire nervously with a stick. “It’s just...I have never been with a woman...I was curious.”

“I doubt my experience with Marjolaine was typical, but if you must know, it was not devoid of pleasant memories either. She was a more than capable lover. Men are all strength and power, and many finish before you’ve even begun the climb. But another woman is much more delicate, more passionate, and far more aware of what we require.”

Cassandra found herself leaning in towards her friend and listening just a little too intently.

“Marjolaine may have proved herself to be a monster but she was every bit as much of an artist with her tongue as with her bow.”

The Seeker felt something stir within her. She fidgeted on the log she sat on as an awkward silence fell between the two women. Suddenly the warrior found her nerve and a few bold words began to swim in her mind. Just as she opened her lips to speak them though, a third voice interjected.

 “Swapping stories, ladies?”  Varric sat himself down beside Cassandra. “I’ve been known to tell a tale now and then.”   When an awkward silence followed his arrival, he arched an eyebrow. “I didn’t interrupt anything, I hope.”

“Not at all, Varric,” Leliana assured him with a grin. “Cassandra was just about to tell us all about her romantic past.”

Varric looked positively thrilled. “Be still my beating heart. Now that is a story I would very much like to hear.”

Cassandra jumped to her feet.  That was certainly not what she intended to do, especially not now that Varric had joined them.  “It’s late. We have a long road ahead of us. Perhaps we should get some sleep.”

The Seeker ignored Varric’s pleas to talk a little while longer and after a short goodnight to Leliana, she returned to her small tent. Sleep, however, did not come easily to her, which was unusual.  In training, she had learned to take her rest where she could.  Tonight, though, she had difficulty keeping her thoughts away from her conversation with Leliana.

 _An artist with her tongue_.  She had never met Marjolaine, but images of her taking the woman’s place kept forcing their way into Cassandra’s mind.  Of laying between Leliana’s legs, exploring the bard with her mouth, and learning what would make her cry out in pleasure.  Of Leliana rolling her onto her back and doing the same for her.  In her brief time with Regalyan, he never did that for her, and she could only imagine what it might feel like. Could only imagine how Leliana might taste, the way her face would look when she found her release…

The idea made her shiver and when she slipped a hand down between her thighs, she found them slick with arousal.  Had she been alone, she might have stayed there and tried to give herself some relief in the hopes it would help her sleep, but this thin tent in midst of camp hardly seemed the appropriate place for such activities. No, it seemed she was destined for a long night.

With a huff, she strapped on her armor, secured her sword to her hip, and stepped back out into the cold night. Dead leaves crunched under her boots as she approached the edge of their camp. She could hear snores coming from the other tents. There were just over a dozen men accompanying them on their journey to the Temple of Sacred Ashes and it was up to Cassandra to see them all there safely. Justinia intended to have words with Varric and the Seeker intended on delivering the obnoxious little weasel to her in one piece.

She came to a stop at the perimeter when she found one of her men hunched over at the base of a tree. Cassandra woke the boy with a slight kick to the leg. His eyes jolted open and he jumped to his feet as soon as he saw her face.  

“Seeker Pentaghast!”,  he cried in a shrill voice. “My apologies, sir-M’am!” he quickly corrected himself.

She stopped his babbling with a simple raise of her hand. “Get some rest. I will stand watch.”

“You’re sure?”

“I am.”

The boy saluted and ran off to his tent and once he was out of earshot, Cassandra let out a yawn, resting her hand on the hilt of her sword.  Before long she caught the scent of smoke in the air and traced it back to it’s source.

Leaning up against a tree with his back to her stood Varric, pipe in hand as he blew smoke out through his nose. The sound of leaves under Cassandra’s boots made him turn to face her.

“Are you that foolish? Smoking in the middle of a forest?” Cassandra chided him.

“I am not without my vices, dear Seeker.  And we’ve had rain.  I doubt I’ll burn it down.”

Cassandra came to a stop next to him. “I told you to rest.”

“I thought you said you were going to do the same.”

She snorted.  “Must you always be this stubborn?”

“Funny, I was thinking exactly the same thing.”  Cassandra crossed her arms and frowned.  “So,” Varric asked, “Can’t sleep or are you just wanting to grace me with your charming personality once again?”

“I do not answer to you.”

“Come now, satisfy my curiosity.”  She stayed silent and Varric decided to change tactics. “Tell me, Seeker, are you a fan of literature?”

She raised an eyebrow, silently praying he didn’t also know what Leliana had discovered about her.  She trusted the bard.  Varric, not so much.  “Why?”

Varric took a puff from his pipe and shrugged. “You’re not very good at conversation.”

 “Only when the person I’m speaking with fills their words with half-truths.”

“My my, are you accusing me of being a liar?”

“Are you denying it?”

“I’m a writer, weaving extravagant lies is my trade. But truth can also be a powerful weapon to those who know how to wield it.”

Cassandra grunted in disapproval. “The truth should not be used to manipulate.”

“Coming from a Chantry woman like yourself, that’s saying something.” Varric countered.

“The Chantry lies?  You do not believe in Andraste and the Maker then?”

“I wouldn’t go that far. In my experience, some stories are too crazy to not be true.”

“For all our sakes I hope when you speak with the Divine you will have the good sense to be honest with her.”

Varric chuckled. “Seeker, when I-”

Suddenly a high pitched scream cut him off and they both whirled on their heels. From out of the woods on the other side of camp, a woman Cassandra recognized as one of their scouts stumbled out of the darkness clutching at her neck. He hands fell to her side to reveal a gash along her throat that was spewing blood like a geyser with each beat of her dying heart.

The rest of the camp quickly climbed out of their tents at the noise, arriving just in time to see the scout topple to the ground. Everyone went for their weapons, and Cassandra’s gaze found Leliana in the turmoil, a quiver now strapped to her back and her bow in hand as she stared out into the forest.

Before Cassandra could shout anything to her, the assault began. A lone arrow soared out from the dark and sunk into a young man’s skull, sending him crashing to the ground just as dozens more followed.

Cassandra raised her shield. “Varric, find a weapon!”, she barked.  Her agents had disarmed the dwarf when they brought him in for questioning in Kirkwall, but right now, he was the least of her worries.

“Way ahead of ya, Seeker!” Varric cried over his shoulder as he ran towards the chest that held Bianca.

Cassandra turned to where she saw Leliana returning fire with her bow from behind a wagon. The Seeker rushed towards her, raising her shield to deflect the arrows that were now crashing down everywhere she looked. She watched in horror as she saw the young guard she relieved from his post earlier writhing on the ground with a shaft buried deep in his chest. A boy out on his first real mission, scarcely old enough to shave, now dead. She pushed that thought from her mind, along with everything else that might distract from what she needed to do to survive.

“How many?!”, she screamed over the sounds of the battle when she finally reached Leliana’s side.

“I saw at least ten, but there are probably more,”  Leliana answered as she drew another arrow from her quiver.

“We’re too exposed in this clearing.  We have to move!” Cassandra said as she scanned the trees and spotted more of their attackers lining up shots. Most of their traveling party had already been struck down and she doubted the rest of them would last long.

“Where’s Varric?” Leliana asked.

“I don’t know!”

Suddenly, the archer nearest to them fell out of his tree, and from behind them, they heard the voice of the dwarf in question.  “Not getting rid of me that easily,” he quipped as he reloaded the large crossbow he now held.  “What about the others?”

Leliana’s tone was flat and hard.  The romantic bard was gone, replaced by the ruthless pragmatist.  “There’s nothing we can do for them.  If we don’t leave now, we’ll be dead too.”  She pointed to a heavily forested grouping of trees across a 30 yards stretch of open land. “It looks clear over there.  Move!”

Varric raised his weapon. “Bianca, baby, time to go to work!”

“Go!” Cassandra ordered and all three of them charged forward.  

Arrows whizzed by Cassandra’s face as she ran, while Varric and Leliana tried to provide covering fire.  Leliana loosed a shot that hit one of the archers in the breast, and he fell from his perch, stone dead.  However the attack left the bard vulnerable and with their attention drawn, the others ambushers in the trees turned on her.  Leliana rolled to dodge the sudden onslaught, but though she avoided being hit, she lost her footing as the arrows rained down around her.

Cassandra didn’t think, she simply acted. She threw herself in front of Leliana and brought up her shield to defend her friend, but with her protection focused on the fallen redhead, she was left vulnerable. Just as Varric pulled Leliana to her feet and fired off a bolt towards the enemy, she felt something sink into her side.

“Cassandra!” Leliana cried in horror as she watched the arrow strike home.

The seeker hit the ground hard. “Keep moving!” she ordered the others. “I’ll follow!”

“Not a chance!” Varric objected, grabbing Cassandra by the collar to help drag her the few remaining yards to the trees.

Perhaps the Maker was looking out for them, as they somehow made it to their destination without any further wounds. The dense foliage provided cover from the arrows but their attackers were persistent. Just as Varric helped set Cassandra down by a fallen tree, the archer team began to move in, replacing their bows with drawn daggers.

Leliana reached back to her quiver and came up empty handed. “Varric, get her somewhere safe.” she ordered.

“No!’ Cassandra cried.

Varric shook his head. “What about you, Nightingale?”

Leliana drew a pair of daggers from the sheaths at her belt. “I will lure them away to give you time and we can meet up again once I lose them.”

“Leliana, I can still fight.” Cassandra protested through clenched teeth as more blood spilled out of the wound in her side.

“No time to argue,” Leliana snapped as she moved towards the enemy. “Now go!”

Varric helped Cassandra to her feet. “Time to move.”

“We can’t leave her!”

“You heard her, she’ll catch up and besides, you’re looking a little worse for the wear right now,” Varric pointed out as he wrapped an arm around her waist.

As they slipped further and further into the woods, she kept looking over her shoulder, trying to catch a glimpse of Leliana as she ran towards what Cassandra feared would be her doom.  Unfortunately, she was so focused on her friend that it was almost her own undoing.

A battle cry sounded and from behind a large oak tree one of their enemies sprang forward with an axe clutched in his hand. He swung his weapon at them, the blade just barely missing Varric’s neck as he toppled backwards to avoid the strike, Bianca falling from his grasp as he fell.  Cassandra managed to raise her shield in time, deflecting the axe as the man brought the weapon down in a powerful overhead strike that staggered her.

She had to dive to her left to avoid the next attack, but the move also provided her with an opening.  She slashed upwards and her blade caught her enemy just below the wrist. The sword cleaved through armor, skin, and bone, leaving his axe hand dangling off the rest of his arm by a thin strip of flesh. The man howled in agony and Cassandra readied her blade to finish him off.  Her wound slowed her though, and before she could strike, her assailant reached out, wrapping his remaining hand around the arrow sticking out of her side, and twisted.

She threw back her head and let out a cry of pain but though she dropped her shield, she kept hold of her sword.  To lose it was to die, and she had no intention of dying here.  Grabbing the hilt with her other hand, she swung with all of her fading strength, crying out, “Maker take you!”  The blade hit its mark and carved through the flesh of the man’s stomach, spilling his innards out before he fell backwards to the dirt.

With her enemy dead, the surge of adrenaline that had kept her going faded and Cassandra’s vision began to darken. She staggered, bracing herself on a tree and turning towards Varric, who was picking himself up from the dirt and gathering up his crossbow from where he’d dropped it.

“We need to go back for her.” Cassandra insisted, but her words were slurring and her head swam with pain. 

“You’re in no shape to fight,” Varric insisted as he slung Bianca on to his back.

She wanted to protest, but her legs chose that moment to fail her and she dropped to one knee, clutching at the arrow sticking out of her.  The sword tumbled from her hand and the last word she managed to get out before she fell to ground was, “Leliana.”


	2. Chapter 2

She awoke to the smell of smoke and the sight of a dwarf removing his belt.

“Finally,” Varric told her. “I was beginning to think you’d never wake up.”

Cassandra started to stand but a flaring pain in her side made her think better of it. She looked down and saw that the arrow was still sticking out from her torso.  “How long was I out?”

“A couple of hours maybe.” Varric had his back to her and his hand was wrapped around the hilt of Cassandra’s sword as he held it over a small fire.  He set down the blade before he moved to Cassandra’s side and offered her his belt. “This is going to hurt.”

Cassandra’s heart began to thump hard and fast in her chest.  “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“More or less, but I’m a writer, not a healer. If you see one of those, I’d be happy to let them take over, but otherwise, the devilishly handsome dwarf is your only option.” 

Cassandra collected herself as best she could, nodding her head and opening her mouth. In her years as a Seeker, she’d been treated for a variety of injuries, but this was going to be a new experience.

Varric placed the leather belt between her teeth and she bit down as he wrapped his hand around the shaft of the arrow.  Taking a deep breath, she thought back to her training.  

_Clear your mind of all emotions._ “Okay, on five.”  Varric’s voice sounded distant as she entered her trance.

_Ignore all distractions._ “One.”

_There is nothing outside of yourself that can touch you._ “Two.”

Suddenly Varric yanked the arrow out of her side and she bit down on the leather as her flesh was cut anew.  It took her a moment to collect herself before she could speak. “On five?”, she huffed.

“The anticipation is the worst part,” Varric quipped.

“I was preparing myself.  Do not do that again.”

He shook his head.  “All right.”  He walked back to the fire and picked up the sword, the metal glowing red in the first light of dawn.

Cassandra blinked hard. “Maker preserve me,” she whispered as she tried to guide her mind back into the serene detachment she’d been seeking earlier. Passing out from the pain wasn’t an option. Whoever had attacked their camp already had enough of a head start.

Varric’s face was heavy as he lined up the hot metal next to Cassandra’s bleeding wound but she pushed the sight out of her mind, focusing instead on the nothingness that could bring her peace.  “Do it.”

Varric didn’t say anything smart this time before he pressed the hot metal against the wound. The flesh hissed and sizzled as the stench of burning skin filled both their noses.  Cassandra bit down on Varric’s belt as she tried to stop the agony from overwhelming her.  It wasn’t the stillness of the void that brought her through the pain, however.  Instead, it was Leliana’s face that came unbidden to her mind, reminding her of what she was fighting to stay conscious for.

Her throat was hoarse by the time she was brought back to reality by the sound of Varric’s voice as he lowered the blade.  “Never let it be said you’re not tough, Seeker,” he told her while he retrieved a makeshift bandage he had fashioned from the shirt of the man Cassandra had killed.

Her breath came in short, sharp gasps as she looked down at the seared flesh along her side. “You are…  fairly adept at that,” she conceded as the bandage was wrapped around her torso. “This isn’t the first time you’ve done this, I take it?”

“Is that a compliment, Seeker?”, he quipped.  “I’m flattered.  You don’t spend as much time with Hawke as I did, and not learn how to patch up the occasional arrow in the side. Blondie wasn’t always there to magic our wounds away, even before the Champion stuck a dagger in his neck.”

She gritted her teeth.  The pain was still immense but she could manage it. “Thank you, Varric,” she said as he tied off the improvised covering.  “I could not have done this on my own.  I half feared you would take the opportunity to escape while I was unconscious.”

“Are you kidding?”, he laughed.  “Those archers are still out there and I need you to hide behind.  I’m not sure what the Divine is going to do with me, but it can’t be worse than being used for target practice by that bunch.”

She just nodded, uncomfortable with being in Varric’s debt, but unable to do anything about it at the moment.  “Was there any sign of Leliana while I was unconscious?”

He shook his head.  “None.  So what’s our next move?”  She winced and put pressure on her side as she struggled back to her feet.  “Slow down, Seeker!  A little rest might not be the worst idea.”

“We don’t have time.  We should return to camp.  Some of our supplies may still be there, and perhaps we can pick up the trail of the people who attacked us.”  A healing potion would be most welcome, she thought to herself, but she’d left them behind in the chaos of the attack.

“Pick up their trail?!  Don’t you think we should be getting as far away from here as possible?”

Her response was a flat, “No.”  If Leliana was alive and a prisoner, she had to find her.  And if she was not, Cassandra would make those responsible pay with their lives.

Varric shook his head, muttering something about heroes, but he fell into line behind Cassandra as they retraced their wild flight from the night before.  The early morning light was peeking through the thick covering of trees, making it easier to travel than it had been the night before, and it wasn’t long before they were back at the scene of the ambush.

The camp was in ruins. Bodies littered the clearing next to fallen tents and arrows were still sunk into the dirt. Smoke trailed to the sky from the remnants of abandoned campfires. The stench of blood was thick in the air, belonging to both her people and a smaller number of their attackers.

It was hard to look at the faces of the first group. She didn’t know most of them well but some were familiar. They were good men and women all and they had given their life for the cause which was more than Cassandra could say for herself.

She kept pressure on her side as she explored the clearing. “Leliana!” she cried out, her breath trailing away in the cold air.   Varric followed close behind, his eyes on the trees and Bianca in his hand.  “Leliana!” Cassandra tried again and once more, silence was her only answer.

She came to a stop beside a collapsed tent. The bodies of four of her people were strewn about, some laying on top each other, and all of them dead. Arrows were buried deep in their flesh and their faces were twisted in their final agony.

Cassandra unsheathed her sword and stabbed it into the mud before dropping to a knee with her hand on the hilt. She bowed her head, “Here lies the abyss, the well of all souls. From these emerald waters doth life begin anew. Come to me, child, and I shall embrace you. In my arms lies Eternity.”  When she finished her prayer Cassandra looked to their pale faces once more. “Maker guide you to His side” she whispered before she rose to her feet.  She shook her head.  “This should not have happened.”

Varric let out a rueful laugh.  “I’m beginning to fear I’m bad luck. Things tend to go poorly around me.”

Cassandra sheathed her sword. “I do not believe this attack was because of you. We serve the Divine.  Most Holy has many enemies.  Any one of...”

Her words stopped short when her eyes caught a glimpse of something in the dirt beneath a nearby tree. She dashed toward the object, and as she drew closer, her fears were confirmed.

She snatched it from the ground and held it delicately in front of her face. In her hands she held a long dagger, a blade she recognized as Leliana’s. Her breath caught in her throat as she looked to the ground and saw the dried blood that had painted the dead leaves near where it fell. Yet she couldn’t say who it belonged to, and Leliana’s body was nowhere to be seen.

“Found something?” Varric said from behind her.

“It’s Leliana’s. They...they must have taken her.”

“That attack last night didn’t strike me as a take prisoners kind of affair. What makes you think the Nightingale is still alive.”

_Because she has to be._ “Because they would not have bothered to take her body with them.  And because Leliana would be of more value to them than the rest of the soldiers.” Cassandra tucked the dagger into her belt and began searching around the camp site. “There must be some sign of where they went, or who they are. Something we can use to track them.”

Varric slung Bianca on to his back. “Maybe we should ask him.” he said as he pointed a finger.

Cassandra followed Varric’s gesture and saw a man leaning up against a tree. “Not one of ours,” she noted as she unsheathed her sword.

The man was dressed in black with a hood over his face, and he squirmed on the ground in a puddle of his own blood, his gut split open by a long, ugly cut.

Cassandra and Varric came to a stop before the man, who seemed not to even notice their presence. Blood slipped past his lips as he groaned in agony. Cassandra kicked him in the leg and suddenly he snapped out of his daze, looking up to meet their eyes but saying nothing.

“Who are you?” Cassandra asked.

Still he said nothing.  “Real talkative.” Varric noted.

Cassandra knelt down beside him. “You tried to kill us. Why?”

The man’s voice was raspy and weak.  “Same reason as always… money.”

“Assassins?  Lovely, cutthroats are always such a fun bunch,” Varric commented.

Cassandra met the young man’s eyes. “If you tell us everything you know, I promise to grant you a quick death.”

“You’re not very good at bargaining,” the assassin hissed.

“You are beyond saving,” she pointed out.  “A swift death is preferable to bleeding out slowly.”

“Gonna have to sweeten the deal.” The man fumbled in his coat and removed a letter half stained with his own blood.  Cassandra took the paper and handed it to Varric. “A letter...for my daughter. If you promise to get that to Elise Colland in Redcliff, then I’ll tell you everything I know.”

She nodded.  “I give you my word. Now tell me who cut you.”

“Some bitch with red hair. The boss said we had to take her alive.” The man coughed and more blood spilled from his mouth. “Not you though…  You, she wanted dead.”

“Must be your charm,” Varric quipped, but she ignored the jab.

“She?  Who hired you to do this?”

“Some Chantry broad….goes by the name of Corday.”

Cassandra furrowed her brows.  “Mother Corday?”

“You know her?”, Varric asked.

“I do.”

“Any idea why she’d want you and Nightingale out of the picture?”, Varric inquired.

“Some, yes.” Cassandra turned back to the man. “Where did your people take her?”

The man chuckled, fresh flecks of blood spilling down his chin as he did.  “We’ve got over a dozen men. A woman and a dwarf think they can kill a dozen trained men? Think I heard a joke like that once.”

“Where are they camped?!”, Cassandra repeated, her tone darker now.

The man pointed a shaking finger. “North, a few miles hike. You’ll know it when you see it. You wanna get yourself killed taking out a few of those assholes be my guest. What do I care? Traitorous scum left me to die.”

“Is this all you know?”, Cassandra asked.

“Do I look like the brains of the operation to you? Just make it quick.”

Cassandra rose to her feet and after a brief prayer she stabbed her blade through the man’s heart. He slumped forward as his last breath left him.

“Seeker, you’re not really planning…”

“We’re not leaving her in their hands, Varric. I will not force you to accompany me, but I would appreciate your help.” 

Varric sighed. “Sure, why not? If we actually survive, it might make for a good story.  How bad can this Mother Corday be?”

 

***

 

“Here she is, Mother.”

Leliana grunted in pain as she was tossed to the ground, the impact jarring her already-sore body.  Though her armor had shielded her from the worst of the battle, she’d taken a number of cuts and bruises before being taken prisoner, and her captors hadn’t bothered to treat them on their way back to the camp.

She pulled herself up to her hands and knees and above her, she saw the woman they’d been addressing sitting on a tree stump in front of her.  Reverend Mother Corday was dressed in the customary red and white robes of her rank, but her hood was pulled back, revealing the caramel skin and dark hair that were marks of her Antivan ancestry.

“Excellent work.”  Corday favored the mercenaries with an approving nod before turning her attention to her prisoner.  “Sister Leliana,” she told her, “It is so lovely to see you once more, even if it is under somewhat strained circumstances.”

Leliana found a log and seated herself on it, brushing the blood from a shallow cut on her forehead out of her face.  The torture and rape she’d feared at the hands of her captors didn’t seem to be on the menu, at least not yet.  It was a subtler peril she faced for now, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t in danger.

“Mother Corday”, she told her, “If you were so eager for us to speak, you could have simply sought me out at the Conclave.”  She was inwardly seething over the previous night’s attack, but she kept her anger under control as she spoke.  Both she and her captor were practitioners of the Game, and in it, courtesy was as much a mask as any made of lacquer and enamel. 

“Alas, what we need to discuss is too urgent to wait until then,” Corday replied with a rueful smile.  She looked every bit the wise cleric, the lines of middle age giving her face a beauty more matronly than sexual.  “It is the very future of the Chantry that is at stake, and by then, it might have been too late.  Now, there may yet be time for me to convince you of what we need to do in order to save it.”

To her right, the man she took for the leader of the mercenaries, a tall, lanky, and ill-kempt brute who’s accent also betrayed an Antivan heritage, let out a snort. “Really?  You had us bring this bitch here so you blather on at her?  You want her to come around, let me and the boys have a crack.  Guarantee she’ll be singing whatever song you want soon enough.”

Corday dismissed the suggestion with a wave of her hand.  “Pay him no mind,” she told Leliana.  “Ozvar is a brute.  Excellent at his job to be sure, but entirely without subtlety.”

Ozvar shook his head.  “Your coin, your party,” he told Corday, but before he turned away, he shot Leliana a savage look that suggested he would’ve very much enjoyed the opportunity to hurt her.

Once he had left to join his men, Corday’s smile returned.  “One works with whom one must.  We both know you’re far too strong to yield to simple force.  And besides, there is no need for such crude methods.  I think that once you hear what I have to say, we can reach an understanding.”

“Convince me then.  You said we needed to save the Chantry.  I assume you are referring to Grand Cleric Delphaunie as well as yourself?”  The Orlesian was Corday’s mentor in the Chantry and the lower-ranked cleric often did her mistress’ dirty work.

“Of course,” Corday agreed.  “Her Eminence has long been worried by Justinia’s attempts to force change since she took the Sunburst Throne.  I would say that events over the last several years have validated those concerns, wouldn’t you?”

Leliana weighed her answer.  The simplest thing to do would be to agree with whatever Corday suggested, but the simplest way was seldom the best when it came to the Game. Any conversion that came too easily would seem insincere.  “I think they show why change is necessary,” she told her captor.

“Even when that change threatens to tear Thedas apart?  The Mage Rebellion, the unrest in the Orlesian alienages… Terrible tragedies that did not have to come to pass.”

“No,” she disagreed.  “They did.  Mages and elves have too long been oppressed, and we have been among their oppressors. Their violence is a natural reaction to that.”

Corday shook her head, conveying the impression of nothing so much as a wise parent correcting an errant child.  She gave no sign that she was the same person who had, only hours before, had ordered the murder of the men and women under Leliana’s command.  “You’re wrong.  It is not the Chantry that has been responsible for their condition.  It is the people.”

The Revered Mother folded her hands behind her back and looked to the sky. “When I was a girl, my mother had an eleven maid.  Her daughter and I played together, grew up together.  How could I harbor ill will towards her people?  But the Chantry doesn’t ultimately represent my wishes, or Delphaunie’s, or even Most Holy’s.  It represents the views of the millions of faithful who make up it’s body,   If we turn our backs on them, telling them that they must accept those that they hate and fear, than they will reject us in our turn.”

“But isn’t it the Chantry’s duty to lead the believer’s along a better path?”, Leliana objected.  “To guide them out of the darkness of ignorance?”

“Of course it is.  But they can only be taken so far so fast.  The feelings against elves and mages run deep.  They cannot be overcome in this manner.  Already, there are divisions forming within the Chantry over Justinia’s reforms, and the Conclave could split them wide open.  The rebel mages will only make peace if they are granted a considerable measure of independence, and if that happens, many among the faithful will look to follow someone else.”

She raised an eyebrow.  “Someone such as Grand Cleric Delphaunie?”

“Perhaps.  But Her Eminence does not want it to come to that.  A schism in the Chantry in would be disastrous, for the faith and for Thedas.  I would prefer that you helped me to make Justinia see reason instead.”

“The rain of arrows you directed at our camp did not seem so reasonable,” she pointed out, giving voice to a fraction of her anger.

“Ozvar may have been overzealous,” Corday conceded.  “But the attack was also necessary.  Cassandra would never understand what I have just explained to you.  The Right Hand is a blunt instrument, not a thinker, and her loyalty to Justinia is blind.  You, I hope, can see past such personnel concerns and focus on the greater good.”

“It is something I will think on at least,” she told her captor.  “For now, I have had a long night and require some rest before I can make any decision.”

“Oh, but of course,” Corday agreed.  She reached into her robes and drew forth a small, red vial, handing it to Leliana.  “This should ease your wounds and help you sleep while you consider my words.”

Leliana eagerly swallowed down the potion.  She was certainly battered, her ribs bruised, her forehead and left arm cut, and the enchanted liquid soothed the aches even while it sped up her healing.  She would need her strength, but not to think on Corday’s proposal. The Reverend Mother had posed as the voice of reason, but her words also concealed much. If Leliana refused to turn, her removal along with Cassandra’s would make a future move against Justinia much easier.  Cassandra, though, would not be so easily defeated.

Corday was right about one thing.  Her fellow Hand of the Divine was stubborn.  She would not give up as long as she thought Leliana might still draw breath, and when she arrived, the bard had to be ready to help her.  She might put her faith in the Maker, but right now, it was Cassandra that she trusted in.


	3. Chapter 3

Leliana’s eyes fluttered open in the darkness of the tent.  A bard needed many skills, and one of them was the ability to wake up on their own schedule.  Whether planning a midnight assignation or a quiet burglary, it was sometimes necessary to rest and yet not sleep for too long. Even though she was awake, however, it was hard to keep her mind entirely focused after the ordeal she had been through.  Instead, her thoughts kept returning to her last meeting with her captor.

_The door to the sitting room swung open, and Leliana flashed a smile as sharp as a razor at the woman who walked through it.  Though Mother Corday did her best to conceal the shock on her face, this was clearly not who she intended to see._

_“Hello, Sister Leliana.” Her voice betrayed impressively little of what she must have been feeling._

_“Mais, oui.  I am afraid it will just be the two of us this evening.  Monsieur Gabrotte is otherwise engaged.”_

_She raised an eyebrow.  “Is he dead?”_

_“No, merely on a slow boat to Antiva,” she replied, her own smile never leaving her face, “With plenty of time to meditate on the benefits of loyalty.”  She had considered slitting the man’s throat, but Grand Cleric Esmerelda had insisted he’d be spared.  There was something touchingly naive in her regard for a man who had threatened to destroy her political career.  Still, if it prevented her and her influential block of supporters from changing their allegiances in the upcoming election, Leliana would honor the request._

_Corday returned her smile.  “Ah, loyalty.  Just one of the many virtues in short supply in these troubled times.  Honestly, what was Esmerelda thinking, dallying with a man 30 years her junior and a commoner as well?  It saddens me that you would protect such a disgrace to the Chantry, Sister.  I had always though more highly of you.”_

_“I appreciate the concern, but it is not Esmerelda whose interests I serve, Reverend Mother.  Dorothea will sit the Sunburst Throne and the sooner that you and your friends accommodate your selves to that fact, the better off you will be.”_

_Her hand closed around one of the daggers concealed beneath her robes.  Not all of Corday’s training was in theology, and Leliana wasn’t sure how hard she was going to take the thwarting of her plans.  Killing her would cause complications, to be sure, but it would also further weaken Grand Cleric Delphaunie’s chances of becoming Divine, and so a part of her was disappointed when the older woman simply turned to leave._

_“Well played, Sister. Dorothea will need someone like you by her side.”_

Leliana shook her head, banishing the memory though not, she hoped, its lessons.  Corday had seemed to take her defeat with good humor, but three weeks after Mother Dorothea had taken the Sunburst Throne, a member of the Antivan Crows had ambushed Leliana on the streets of Val Royeaux. Only what she’d learned of their methods from Zevran had saved her life, and though there was never enough proof to arrest Corday or her mistress, her instincts had told her that they’d been behind it.

Dealing with a woman such as that, Leliana couldn’t wait passively for Cassandra to find her.  Unfortunately, while Mother Corday’s hospitality had given her a bedroll, it hadn’t left her free.  Her hands and feet were bound, but when she quieted her mind and listened, the slow, steady breathing coming from the guard assigned to watch her told her that he had drifted off to sleep.

She briefly contemplated trying to get free and make a run for it, but she set the idea aside.  Even if no one was watching her right then, there were too many people around for her to get far, especially without weapons.  She still wanted a better sense of the camp though, and so she crawled out of the tent, careful to make as little noise as possible.

Most of the other mercenaries seemed to be asleep as well, no doubt tired from their long night of murder, she thought bitterly.  Still, from a dozen or so meters away, she heard voices coming from around a small campfire.  A man, young and angry, Ferelden she guessed by his accent, was complaining.  “…don’t understand this fucking bitch.  She has us shoot all those people, just so she can chat with one prisoner.  What the hell kind of job is that?”

“Politics, kid.”  An older man, Antivan.  A cooler head.  “The work may pay good, but it never makes any sense to the likes of us.”

The kid was still irritated.  “Still doesn’t feel right after what that skinny broad did.  She stabbed fucking Devar right through the eye.  Cut Morav’s throat.  She’s gotta pay for that.”

“She will.”  This speaker she recognized.  Ozvar had joined his men by the fire, his hard features only partially visible in the dim light.  “The priest may be playing games with her now, but I saw the look in that ginger bitch’s eyes.  She won’t go along, and that means eventually we’ll get our crack.”  Even at that distance, she could hear the eagerness in his voice as he continued, “She’s tough too.  Always makes it more fun when they can last a while.”

“Yeah. Remember that blonde dwarf?  The merchant?”, the older Antivan laughed.  “Thought we’d never get the bloodstains out of the floor after we were done with her.”

Leliana’s bound hands clenched in fury.  She understood the need the employ violence at times, but those who enjoyed it were another breed entirely.  Deciding there was nothing more to be learned here, she began crawling backwards, but she’d only made it a few feet when a crack stopped her in her tracks.

She’d accidentally snapped a small branch and by the time she realized it, it was too late.  Ozvar had heard, and he made a beeline straight for her, leaving her no time to escape.  All she could do was roll up into a sitting position.  She felt vulnerable enough bound without being flat on her stomach as well.

“What’re you doing out here?”.  Even in the dim light, she could see a cruel smile spreading across his face.

She kept her voice steady.  “Merely getting a little fresh air.  I was not sleeping well.”

The strike came without warning.  Ozvar drove his boot into her gut and she doubled over, groaning as the breath was forced out of her.  Before she even had a chance to steady herself, a second kick hit her in the sternum, driving her onto her back.  Ozvar planted his foot on top of her, and only when she was slammed firmly down into the dirt did he speak again.

“Just because Corday didn’t let me slit your fucking throat doesn’t mean you’re the queen of this camp.  You sneak out one more time, I’ll cut out one of your eyes and feed it to you, you bloody cunt.  Understand?”

Once again, he didn’t wait for her to respond.  Instead, he pressed his foot into her torso, even as she tried to use her bound hands to limit the damage.  “I do,” she grunted out.  “I swear I won’t do it again.”

He reached down and grabbed her by the hood of her cloak, pulling her back to her feet and dragging her through the camp without another word.  She was tossed back into the tent roughly, and as she tried to catch her breath, Ozvar turned his attention to the sleeping guard next to her bedroll.  “Have a nice nap, Kelvan?”

The man, a younger, straw-haired Ferelden, sounded terrified as he was shaken awake.  “Yes, sir.  I mean, no, sir.  I mean, she was sleeping, sir.”

“Well, she woke up.  Fortunately for you, she didn’t get away. If she had, I’d cut your fucking nuts off.  As is, you get off with a little reminder.”  Suddenly, Leliana saw a glint of metal in

Ozvar’s hand, pressed up against the man’s cheek as quickly there was no chance to escape.  He screamed as the blade ran through the soft flesh, leaving a red trail along the skin.

Kelvan clutched at his cut, groaning in pain, but when he staggered towards the exit to the tent, Ozvar stopped him.  “Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

“To get this treated,” he gasped.

“Oh, no.  You’re still on guard duty.  The pain will keep you awake.”

Once Ozvar had left and Kelvan had slunk off into a corner of the tent to nurse his wound, Leliana lay back down on the bedroll.  Her ribs ached and her stomach still churned with disgust from what she’d seen and heard, but in spite of that, she was feeling encouraged.  Ozvar might have gotten pleasure out of hurting her, but she’d received something far more valuable from the encounter, because the small knife that he kept strapped to his ankle was now hidden up one of her sleeves.

  

Her feet felt heavy, her head light, and the wound in her side still throbbed with pain but Cassandra pressed on. The sun shone through the cracks in the trees in brilliant beams of light and she had no intention in letting it set again without finding Leliana first.

“I’m starting to question the validity of the information we got from that assassin,” Varric quipped from behind her.

They had been hiking through the woods for almost two hours and there still was no sign of any camp to be found. Cassandra came to a stop beside a tall oak tree and rested one hand on it’s trunk.

“Why would he lie to us?”

“Why would he tell us the truth?”

“Not everyone fills their words with lies,” Cassandra hissed.

Varric threw up his hands, an offended look covered his broad face.  “Maybe you didn’t realize it, Seeker, but I’m out here risking my neck for you and your Lady Nightingale too. If I were you, I’d drop the attitude.”

“You have done nothing but complain. We must keep moving.”

“You’re going to get us both killed if we don’t take a minute to figure this out.”  Varric threw his arms up in frustration. “Maker, even Hawke wasn’t this stubborn.”

“Perhaps we would not be in this position if you had simply told me where she is.”

Varric shook his head. “I told you, I don’t know.”

Cassandra didn’t bother telling the dwarf that she doubted that claim. She hardly believed anything that came out of the little bastard’s mouth. He had wasted her time and made a fool of her when all she required was information. She knew he probably saw this as some sort of joke and Cassandra had little patience for people who refused to take important matters seriously. Leliana was in grave danger, perhaps dead already, and yet Varric still took every chance he had to get on her nerves. With a shake of her head she pushed herself off the tree and pressed a hand to her side as she continued on to her path, not bothering to look when Varric sighed and trotted up beside her.

“Can’t we at least distract ourselves with conversation?”, he asked.

Cassandra didn’t look at him, keeping her hand on her sword and her eyes straight ahead. “No.”

“Come now, Cassandra, indulge my curiosity.”

The woman gritted her teeth. “What is it you wish to know?”

Varric stroked his chin, pondering his inquiry. “You and Leliana…”

“What about us?”

“You two are close?”

“We are both Hands of the Divine.”

“Right. But you and her…” Varric made a motion with his hands that puzzled the woman.

“What are you on about?”

“I just assumed that with the way you look at her you two were-”

A blush colored Cassandra’s cheeks. “I have no idea what you’re talking about!”

“Ah, so does that mean there’s a Mr. Seeker out there then?  A special friend?  A randy pirate?”

“Stop talking.”

“I seem to have struck a nerve. Forgive me. I just noticed how Leliana...ah nevermind I was clearly mistaken,” Varric said, not very convincingly.

Cassandra stopped in her tracks for a moment.  Varric continued on his path, pretending to not notice the frozen Seeker.

“What did you mean?”, she suddenly cried out.

A sly grin spread across Varric’s face. “What did I mean about what?”

“Leliana...what did you notice about her?”

Varric waved his hands in dismissal. “Oh, forget about it. I was probably just being foolish.”

“Answer me.”  Cassandra loomed over Varric, her words clearly not a suggestion.

“Well...I’ve always prided myself on my ability to read people. Now, I’m not much of a romantic myself but I’d have to be a blind fool to not see the way that woman’s eyes follow you.”

For a brief moment, the thought filled Cassandra with hope before it was squashed by her pessimism. “You’re toying with me.”

“Toying with you?” Varric seemed genuinely confused.  

“Do you have any shred of respect or decency?”

Varric chuckled. “You really are smitten.”

“No more conversation,” she ordered as she stormed past him.

“You know, I should write my next book about the two of you!”, Varric said as he rushed to keep up. “The tough, stoic Seeker who falls head over heels for her fellow Hand of the Divine. Star crossed lovers from different worlds. Nothing sells quite like a good romance.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Cassandra lied as she pressed a hand to her wound. Something about the aggravating little man made it flare up.

“You wouldn’t? Then tell me why is it you’re stumbling through the woods, with a wound in your side and only the word of a dying assassin to rely on? Even if you don’t want to admit it, Seeker, the only thing that drives people to do something that stupid is love.”

“Then why are you here?”

Varric smirked. “Fair point.”

Before he could elaborate, a break in the woods caught her eye and Cassandra rushed towards it, not bothering to maintain the dwarf’s slower pace. The clearing opened up to a rocky cliffside that towered above a valley below. She rested her hand on her sword as she stared down at a good-sized camp containing almost a dozen tents. They were spread out in a rough circle around a large central tent made of dark purple fabric. If Mother Corday had truly taken Leliana, Cassandra knew that was where she’d find her.

“Andraste’s tits…” Varric cursed under his breath. “Must be a dozen men at least.”

Her eyes were hard.  “Six for both of us.” 

“Not sure I like those odds. We should probably come up with a plan that doesn’t have quite so high a chance of getting both of us killed.”

Cassandra crossed her arms and looked to her companion. “What do you suggest?”


	4. Chapter 4

This time, it was the smooth, measured tones of Mother Corday’s voice that woke her up. The morning sun was already coming in through the tent flaps and and Leliana instinctively rolled away from the light, ignoring the ache in her ribs at the motion. She was still sore from the beating she’d taken the night before, but after the months she’d spent on the road with the Hero of Ferelden, starting the day with pain was something she was used to.

“Good morning, Sister.”  Corday seemed in a good mood.  “You are well rested, I hope.  I heard you had a small run-in with my people.”

She repeated her lie from the night before.  “I was having difficulty sleeping and had simply left the tent to get some air.  Your man overreacted.”

Corday shrugged apologetically.  “As I said earlier, Ozvar’s manners leave much to be desired.  What can one do?  I trust he did not hurt you too badly.”

“I’ll live.”

“I’m glad to hear it, because we will need to break camp soon. Before we depart, though I had hoped we might continue our earlier conversation.”

She held up her bound hands.  “As you wish.  I seem to have little choice in the matter at present.”

“Oh, that.”  Corday reached beneath her robes and produced a small but wickedly sharp-looking dagger.  “Hold out your arms.”

Leliana did as she was told and Corday sliced the bonds that held wrists together.  “It was only a precautionary measure for the night, Sister.  Now that you’re awake, we have no need of such things, I’m sure.”

_Meaning your guards are all awake, ready to kill me if needs be_.  Still, it was good to have her hands free and she rubbed her wrists together, helping along the restoration of full circulation. “My thanks.  As it happens, when I was having trouble sleeping, I was able to think somewhat on your proposal.”

“And?”

“And a question presents itself.  You make some interesting points about Justinia’s reforms.  Perhaps the pace of change has been too rapid.  I would need to know more about what you planned, but imagine I could be convinced.  What would you do with me then?  Simply release me so that I could persuade Most Holy as well?”

A small smile crossed Corday’s face.  She had clearly anticipated this line of questioning.  “You’re right, of course.  Much as I would love to trust you, Sister, I would never insult you by suggesting you were incapable of masking your intentions if that was what you wanted.  No, I would need some more tangible proof of your conversion, shall we say, before you could leave.”

“Such as?”

“If Justinia is to be diverted from her course, we would need leverage on her.  As the Left Hand, you are privy to enough of her doings to supply that leverage.  Information would be the proof of your sincerity.  Information as to what she’s had you doing, along with the means to gain access to her office for whatever other secrets we might obtain there."

And there it was.  Corday’s true objective.  Murdering her and Cassandra alone would not suffice to bring down the Divine, but the right information presented in the wrong light to the rest of the Grand Clerics just might.  Once Leliana gave the Mother what she sought, there was a fair chance she too would be killed.  Or perhaps not. Perhaps, once she was sufficiently compromised as to have no other choices, Corday and her mistress would let her live to serve them  Either way though, she couldn’t give them what they wanted, and so she played for more time. 

“Well, as I said,” she reminded Corday, “I would need to be persuaded.  If we are not going to grant the mages their independence, how do you propose that the peace be restored.”

“It is a delicate problem, I agree,” Corday began, and Leliana settled in for what she hoped would be a lengthy conversation. The longer she could keep Corday talking, the more time she bought for Cassandra to arrive.

 

A late morning mist still lingered over valley, providing a modicum of cover as they made their way down the ridge line. Varric cursed himself as he stared at the collection of tents now only a few dozen yards away.

“Bianca, sweetheart, I know you won’t lie. What do you think our odds are?”, Varric asked as he took cover behind a large bolder.  Shrugging at the lack of an answer, he wrapped the first bit of cloth he had torn from his shirt around the head of a crossbow bolt.

He squinted as he tried to make out Cassandra in the fog, shaking his head when he found her approaching the camp.  Just how had she talked him into this, anyway?  It was like being with Hawke all over again.  Taking a deep breath, he stabbed a torch into the mud and lit it up.  The flame danced in the cool wind and Varric’s nerves began to fester in his gut.

“Well...I’ve had worse ideas,” he tried to convince himself as he dipped the point of his crossbow bolt into the flame and the strip of cloth tied around the edge caught fire. He moved out of his cover and lined up his first shot.  “Ready or not, Seeker...”

 

Cassandra Pentaghast bit down on the inside of her cheek to stem the pain as she crawled through the mud.  The marsh that marked its southern border gave her a merciful bit of cover but she still had to keep her head down and the position she was in made bursts of fresh pain pour from the wound in her side.

The dwarf had come up with a decent plan. At the very least it was the best that could be expected given their situation. Yet as Cassandra grew closer to the edge of the mercenary camp, closer to Leliana, uncertainly stirred within her.

Through the fog, she spotted a group of beefy men sitting down on logs around a campfire as they ate their breakfast. She’d beaten her fair share of uneven odds in her years of slaying dragons and upholding the Maker’s will but Cassandra knew how dangerous overestimating her abilities could be. Even with the dwarf watching her back from afar, she was still just one person with an arrow wound in her side taking on a sizable gathering of trained sellswords. There was a very real chance that she’d soon be seeing her brother again. Cassandra pushed those worries from her mind, tightening her grip on her sword.  No matter the danger, she would either save Leliana or die trying.

There was a _twang_ and she looked up to see the flaming crossbow bolt soar through the air and thankfully hit its mark. As planned, it sunk into the cloth of a mercenary tent and a moment later, the fabric was ablaze. Before the mercs had even noticed the smell of smoke, four more bolts soared through the air in rapid succession, and all but one caught another of the camp’s tents on fire.

Amid the spreading chaos, the sellswords began to spring to attention, hacking and coughing as the smoke filled the sky and their lungs. She watched as one of them ran from his tent, flailing his burning limbs about wildly but soon enough, he fell to the ground as the fire took him.  From around the camp, she could hear the distinctive screams of other burning men, but she ignored them.  The living were what she needed to be worried about, and they were making plenty of noise themselves.

 

“I understand your concerns about a continuing conflict, but I think you underestimate the desperation of the mages.  They have taken considerable losses in this war, and and will make peace even without Justinia’s foolhardy concessions. 

Leliana folded her hands.  “Logically, you may be right.  But these are desperate people.  They have bled for their cause, yes, but that may only make them more determined to ensure that those sacrifices weren’t in vain.”

Corday nodded.  It was hard to tell if she was really weighing Leliana’s concerns or just trying to placate her.  “We could offer them something small, as a way to let them save face,” she suggested. “Perhaps reforms in the oversight of the Templars, or…”

Before she could finish her sentence, the sound of a man’s dying screams cut her off.  “Fire!”, someone else yelled, “The camp’s on fire!”

_Cassandra.  She’s come_.  Leliana’s heart soared at the realization.  Her first impulse was to try and use her stolen knife to cut Corday’s throat so that she could help the Seeker, but she thought better of it.  Her legs were still bound, and the Reverend Mother had much the same training she did, as well as a better weapon in the form of that dagger.

Indeed, the blade was back in Corday’s hand in a flash and for an instant, her mask of civility dropped.  She shot Leliana a vicious glare.  “I knew Cassandra was stubborn, but this is just stupid,” she spat  “She’ll be dead soon enough and then you’ll tell me what I need to know.”

_We’ll see_.  Leliana gave no outward sign of her disagreement even as she felt for the reassuring pressure of the knife inside her sleeve.  Corday had underestimated both of them, and very soon, she’d pay for that mistake.

 

The first man she found was too busy staring at the flames and screaming for his comrades to notice her creeping up behind him. In one swift motion Cassandra pounced, bringing her sword up to the man’s throat and cutting him from ear to ear. Blood poured from the wound as he fell to his knees before Cassandra kicked him over.  He fell face first into the mud, a puddle of red growing around his body.

From elsewhere in the camp, she heard a scream of “Archers!” as more of Varric’s bolts began to rain down, from different angles this time. The clever dwarf must have been moving as he fired, making it seem as if there was more than one of him.

Cassandra held tight to her weapons as she watched two more mercenaries fall to the ground with bolts in their chests. Five of the men, though, were still left gathered around the campfire, slightly spread out as they searched for their attackers.  She took a deep breath.  Five was a lot, but for Leliana’s sake, she had to try.

The Seeker charged, her sword raised in one hand and shield in the other as she let out a battle cry.  The group of enemies spun on their heels at the sound but she had the element of surprise.  The smallest of the bunch was also the closest, somewhat apart from the others, and she lunged at him.  The man stumbled backwards, narrowly avoiding her blade as he raised his own to strike back. Cassandra rolled out of the way as his sword came down and she struck, plunging the point of her sword through the back of the man’s kneecap.  His weapon didn’t leave his hand when he howled in agony but it soon fell from his grasp when Cassandra removed her sword and shoved it through the back of his neck.

The largest of the sellswords growled, “You just buried yourself, bitch,” as he rushed at her, murder in his eyes.

Cassandra raised her shield as the massive brute brought his axe down.  The man was all raw strength, leaving himself no room for tactics, and though Cassandra staggered backwards under the force of the blow, she was able to evade the follow-up strikes easily enough.

Snarling with frustration, the man grabbed the hilt of his axe with both hands and hoisted it above his head, trying to end the duel with a single, shattering blow. He wasn’t fast enough.  Before the merc had the chance to bring the weapon down, Cassandra thrust upwards, plunging her sword into his chest.  The tip of the blade pierced his heart, tearing it in two as it carved a path through this body.  He opened his mouth to scream but only blood spilled past his lips as he crashed to the ground.

“Come on, boys!  We’ll take her together,” a man with a crooked nose and a dirty-looking beard snarled.  He and the other two remaining men raised their weapons, charging her as a team.  “You won’t get so lucky again, bitch!”

Cassandra didn’t indulge their taunts. She simply kept her gaze fixed on the trio and her shield up. All at once they attacked. The men came at her with short swords and Cassandra’s feet were dancing in the dirt as her blade clashed with theirs.  They were better trained than their dead comrade, and as soon as she fended off one attack, another came in rapid succession.  There was no opening for a strike of her own as she swatted away blow after blow with her sword and shield.  She was a strong woman, but she couldn’t keep this up forever and she knew it.

The men kept coming at her though, and she had no choice but to continue backstepping as she blocked their strikes. The flames of the burning camp were spreading around them in every direction and the smoke was entering Cassandra’s heaving lungs. Her best chance to win this fight was for Varric to give her supporting fire, but it wasn’t going to be easy for him to tell her apart from the mercenaries in the chaos.  She had to create space, and she could only think of one way to do that.

Behind her, she picked out a burning log, and angled her retreat towards it.  Once she was close enough, she hurled herself backwards through the flames, landing with a crash that sent a fresh shiver of pain through her body.

Her enemies didn’t taunt her this time, simply raising their weapons as they circled around the fire, sensing the chance for a kill.  Cassandra lifted her blade, but just as she steeled herself for the first blow, a wet _thunk_ cut through the air and a splash of crimson covered the Seeker’s face. Jutting out from one of the man’s eye sockets was the tip of a crossbow bolt. The sellsword was dead before he hit the ground and the last two mercs spun around to see Varric feeding Bianca another bolt.

“Filthy dwarf!”, one of them screamed as they charged him, ignoring Cassandra in their anger.

Varric seemed to momentary regret his rescue efforts.  He’d had to get pretty close to take the shot and there wasn’t time to finish reloading before the mercenaries reached him.  He dropped Bianca and reached for his dagger instead. It wasn’t going to be enough against the two better-armed humans, but fortunately, it didn’t come to that.

As one of the men pulled his arm back to strike, Cassandra repaid the dwarf’s assistance. Her sword cleaved through flesh and bone and the mercenary’s arm was cut from his body at the elbow in one swift swing.

The merc who still had both his arms was able to meet Cassandra’s steel with his own quickly enough to save himself. However, Cassandra was done with their dance. The Seeker hammered down on the man with all her might again and again, screaming with anger.  Her strength was too much for him.  His sword was knocked from his grasp and before he could reclaim it, Cassandra sunk her blade into his skull. The sellsword’s head split open and with a choked gasp he too fell dead.

Varric stared in awe at the blood-soaked woman before him. “Remind me never to get on your bad side, Seeker.”

Cassandra’s stabbed her sword into the dirt and leaned her weight on the weapon as she caught her breath. “You’re alright?”

Varric dusted himself off. “Never better.” He turned away from her and walked into the maze of burning tents, searching for the purple one.  “Now, let’s find Nightingale and this Mother Corday so we can…”

His sentence was abruptly cut off.  From around the burning corner of a nearby tent, there came a blur of metal and Varric was thrown from his feet, sending him crashing to the ground.  The dwarf twitched and groaned, clutching at his head, and Cassandra raised her sword and shield once more.  Out of the smoke, a tall, wiry man emerged, a mace in one hand, and a short sword in the other.  Just from the way he carried himself, Cassandra could she he was more skilled than the other mercenaries she’d killed.

The man was clad in a set of heavy armor but he wore no helmet. She glared at his ugly face as he raised his duel weapons.

“You killed my men,” Ozvar spat.

Cassandra aimed the point of her sword towards her enemy.  “I’ll kill you as well if you don’t get out of my way.”

The merc leader chuckled before he spat in the dirt at Cassandra’s feet. “We’ll see how smug you are when I cut off that pretty head of yours.”

With a fierce cry, the man rushed forward and Cassandra braced herself for one more battle.  Her muscles burned with fatigue, but she wasn’t done yet.  Not by a long shot.


	5. Chapter 5

Her breath was coming in gasps now, and each strike or parry she made felt like it was slower than the last.  Unfortunately, Cassandra’s enemy wasn’t sharing her struggles. Probably because he didn’t take an arrow to the side and have to fight through the other mercenaries, she thought.  The ugly man wielded a mace in his left hand and a short sword in his right, and he swung them both with an untamed fury that threatened to overwhelm the Seeker.

As he brought the two weapons down in a powerful overhead strike, Cassandra just narrowly avoided the blows by leaping backwards. The smoke from the burning camp around them was encroaching upon their improvised arena more by the second and the Seeker was beginning to fear Leliana might burn with the rest of the mercenaries if she didn’t get to her soon. Her eyes darted to the right in the hope of assistance but Varric still lay belly up in the dirt with ash covering his face. The dwarf was out cold and Cassandra was on her own.

She raised her shield and pointed the tip of her blade towards her enemy.  Ozvar only chuckled at that, seemingly amused by the woman’s continued attempts to battle him when he was confident she was beaten.

“You’re wasting my time,” he spat through yellow teeth. “You’re just gonna end up like every other fool stupid enough to take up arms against me.”

Cassandra struck just as the man finished his taunt.  Her blade came down directly at his smirking face but the attack did not land. Ozvar slapped Cassandra’s sword aside with his own before he lunged forward.

She danced around the attack. Remember your footwork, keep your shield up, look for your opening...   After her years of fighting, the principles came to Cassandra so naturally she hardly had to think them at all.  Yet even the best of warriors could be beaten and Cassandra was beginning to fear she’d met her match.

Ozvar swung his weapons once more and Cassandra brought her shield up. The attack landed with such force she was staggered backwards, her shield arm threatening to turn to jelly as he hammered down on her protection with all his might.

“Think this will save ya, bitch?!”, Ozvar screamed before he threw his mace aside and snatched Cassandra’s shield with one hand, tossing it away. The force of the grab pulled the Seeker off of her feet, sending her crashing face down in the mud. She rolled over on to her back and raised her sword just in time to see her enemy bringing down his own blade with a scream.

Before the blow could land, she lashed out with her foot, impacting Ozvar’s shin hard.  His greaves prevented the ankle from being broken, but the impact was still enough to spoil his aim.  The sword plunged harmlessly into the ground and while he was off-balance, Cassandra whipped her sword around into his chest.  The force of the cut threw him backwards and he gasped, clutching at the deep dent she’d knocked in his armor.

Cassandra rose to her feet, shaking off the fatigue as best she could.  “Do not be so quick to assume you’ve won.”

Not wanting to give him time to recover, the Seeker pressed her advantage.  Now it was Ozvar retreating, his breathing ragged from the blow to the chest.  Still, the man was more skilled than his earlier, wild attack had let on.  He deflected each of her blows in turn, giving ground when he had to, and letting her exhaust whatever burst of energy hope had given her. 

She knew she couldn’t maintain this pace much longer and so she took a risk.  When Ozvar parried her next strike, the Seeker was deliberately slow to bring her sword back up, creating what looked like an opening.  Her enemy moved to exploit it, his short sword lashing out to slice into her uninjured side through the plates of her armor. When he did so, however, there was only one way he could properly position himself, and she was ready for that.  Gritting her teeth through the cut, she drove a knee into his groin.  With a grunt, he doubled over, and while he was off-balance, Cassandra let her sword drop and tackled him.

The pair crashed down into the mud, the Seeker on top, and when the impact dazed Ozvar for an instant, she took advantage.  An armored fist slammed into his face, knocking several of those ugly, yellow teeth from his mouth in a spray of blood.  He screamed, his earlier taunts replaced with a howl of pure rage, and struck back.  His counterpunch caught Cassandra in the forehead, the metal of his gauntlet leaving a bloody trail above her eyes, but she wouldn’t be deterred.  Not now.  Not so close to Leliana.  A second punch sent his head snapping back into the mud, fresh blood pouring out of his shattered nose.  He tried to rise once again, but the third blow drove him back down hard, and after the fourth one, there were no more attempts to escape. The man went limp under her, his ruined face covered in blood.

Even though Ozvar had fallen still, Cassandra raised her first once more, intending to make sure the mercenary would never get up again. Before she could deliver her next strike however, the sound of a man coughing and wheezing for air caught her ear. She looked across the burning camp and saw that the flames were fast approaching where Varric was struggling to get to his feet.

Cassandra rose off of Ozvar to come to the dwarf’s aid, but she had barely made it a step before the wind was knocked out of her.  A punch landed on the arrow wound in her side and the flash of pain that followed sent her reeling. She cried out as Ozvar rose from his feigned defeat with surprising speed. Another blow landed on her torso and she tumbled back down into the mud.

Ozvar rose to his feet shakily and spit blood and a handful of teeth at the Seeker.  “You thought it would be that easy?!”, he screamed as he charged at her.

Cassandra scrambled to rise as well but before she could, Ozvar kicked her so hard in the ribs that she felt at least one of them crack through her armor. The Seeker rolled over onto her back but a punch landed squarely on her jaw and her vision turned blurry. The smell of smoke was filling her nose and the taste of blood was beginning to fill her mouth.

“You killed my men!” Ozvar cried as he punched her again. “Fucked up my face!”  Another punch that she only barely blocked. “You really thought you were leaving here?”, he asked as he raised his fist once more.

Cassandra saw her last opportunity and she seized it. The Seeker sprang up with all the strength she still had in her and grabbed the man by the throat as she drove her knee up into his stomach.  With her hold on the surprised mercenary, she drove them backwards and using their momentum to aid her, she tossed Ozvar into the inferno swallowing up the camp.

He caught fire immediately but even with his tall frame engulfed, the burning man rose to his feet once more, a wordless scream of rage pouring out of his throat.  Through the smoke and fire, he set his sights on Cassandra one last time and rushed at her.

This time, she was ready.  The metal of the blade she had lost glimmered in the firelight and she snatched it up.  As Ozvar closed the final yards, she swung the sword in a powerful arc, the blade slicing through the man’s neck and lodging in his spine.  He twitched, his arms fell limp and Cassandra pried her sword free before delivering the final blow. With one last swing, Ozvar’s head was cut clean off his shoulders, rolling into the flames.

Cassandra shakily sheathed her sword and fell to her knees as she gasped for air. Every inch of her hurt, there was blood in her eyes, and more on her side, but she had won. She looked back in Varric’s direction, thankful to see that the dwarf had managed to pull himself back to his feet and stumble away from the fire.  Now, she just had to find Leliana. Cassandra turned first to the purple tent she and Varric had spotted earlier, but even as she set off in that direction, she found what she was looking for.

Mother Corday was dragging Leliana towards the surviving horses, the steeds lashed to posts at the edge of the camp, where they were a safe distance from the flames. Mercifully, her fellow Hand seemed to be relatively unharmed, but her feet were bound and her captor kept a dagger poised above her throat as they moved.

“Stop!”, Cassandra gasped in their direction, staggering towards the pair as best she could.  Corday turned at the sound of her voice, yanking Leliana along with her as she turned to face the Seeker.  “It’s over.  Let her go.”

“Over?”  A cruel smile covered the Reverend Mother’s face.  “Hardly.  I’m leaving now.  I’d prefer to do it with Leliana, but if you try to stop us, I’ll cut her throat.”

Cassandra’s face was a grim mask.  “You do that, I kill you.”

“Perhaps if you were at your best, that threat would hold some weight.  You are a formidable warrior after all, my lady. But you’re also dead on your feet.  You’d never catch me, so the only question left is if I leave with a prisoner or you get one more corpse to bury.”

The Seeker’s eyes flitted behind her, checking to see if Varric was able to back her up, but though the dwarf had recovered his crossbow, he was still reeling, punch-drunk from the blow to the head.  In that condition, there was no way he could get a shot off that wouldn’t have at least an equal chance of hitting Leliana.  Her heart sunk in her chest as she looked back to Corday.  The Reverend Mother was right.  There was no way Cassandra could stop her from killing Leliana, and no way to run her down if she did.

“Now, back off, Seeker,” Corday hissed.  “I won’t ask again.”

Cassandra’s sword quivered in her hand.  She took a step away from the pair, looking up at the bard with despair in her eyes.  It wasn’t reciprocated, though, only a calm determination staring back at her.

“At last the mask drops.”  There was ice covering Leliana’s voice.   “I thought you wanted for us to be friends.”

“That was before this cow burned down my camp and killed my men,” Corday snarled, backing up cautiously towards the waiting horses.  “Now, I’ll carve what I need out of you.”

“You… attacked… us first.”  The words were an effort for Cassandra, her cracked rib burning more in her chest with every breath.

“And why do you think I had to do that?  Because you and your mistress show the same bull-headed approach to the Game as you did in this attack.  Crashing headlong into chaos, ignoring everything in your way, not caring about what you break.  You won’t be satisfied until you leave the Chantry in ruins, and it falls to me to stop you before that can happen...”

With each word, she seemed to grow angrier, and as she finished her last accusation, she moved the dagger slightly, pointing it in Cassandra’s direction as if she thought she could cut down the Seeker even at that distance.  It was her last mistake.  Without warning, Leliana’s wrist flicked upwards and Corday’s eyes instantly went wide with shock. Her hand twitched, trying to return the dagger to Leliana’s throat, but the bard was ready for that.  She threw her head back, slamming it into Corday’s face, and the Reverend Mother was knocked away from her.  Her blade fell from her grasp as she clutched at the object Cassandra could now see protruding from her stomach: the handle of a small knife.

“How...”, she gasped as blood poured out over her robes, unable to believe what had just happened.  “Searched you...”

“I took it from your brute,” the bard said calmly.  “He was too busy kicking me in the ribs at the time to notice.”

Leliana bent down, picking up the fallen dagger.  Corday tried to retreat, but she only made it a few steps before she stumbled, crashing on her back in the dirt.  Leliana cut the bonds restraining her legs before advancing on her erstwhile captor, the blade gleaming in her hand.

“Wait... “, Corday stammered.  “I didn’t kill you before...”

“Only because you needed me.  I don’t need you.”

Something like resignation passed through Corday’s eyes.  Letting her arms slip to her sides, she stopped protesting, and instead began a final prayer.  “Maker, take this, your humble servant, to...”

Leliana didn’t wait for her to finish. With a single, deft motion, she ended the Reverend Mother’s life, slicing deep into her neck with the dagger.  “Don’t bother.  He can save His mercy for the men and women you murdered last night.”

As Corday’s life blood spilled out on the ground, Cassandra tried to move towards the woman she’d come to save, but her legs at last revolted against her demands.  She fell to her knees, her sword clattering on the ground.

Twin cries of “Seeker!” and “Cassandra!” came from Varric and Leliana, but it was the bard who reached her first.  Slim but strong hands grabbed Cassandra, easing her gently the rest of the way to the ground.

“It’s all right,” she heard that lyrical voice she so adored assure her.  “It’s over.” 

It was for Cassandra anyway.  The adrenaline that had pushed her forward ever since the initial attack on the camp was gone and the last thing she felt before losing consciousness was the warmth of Leliana’s arms pulling tight around her.


	6. Chapter 6

Cassandra groaned as her eyes blinked open, unsure of where she was.  Beneath her, she felt the softness of a mattress, and she realized that while she’d slept, her armor had been removed.  The sharp pain she’d felt before had passed but a dull ache remained, especially in her side where the arrow had struck her.  Light was coming in through a window, and as Cassandra adjusted to the brightness, she heard the musical voice she’d longed for.

“You’re awake.  Thank the Maker!”

Leliana rose from her chair, coming over to the side of the bed and sitting down.  Her long, red hair was flowing freely down her back, the morning sun reflecting off of her green eyes, and her smile was warm and inviting...  She was so lovely that it made Cassandra’s heart ache, but all she could think to say was, “Where am I?”

“At an inn called the Dancing Arl.  Varric and I brought you here after you collapsed.”

“Varric… Is he all right?”  Though she was loathe to admit it, the dwarf had gone beyond the call of duty to help her and she hated to think he might have been seriously hurt doing it.

“He will be.  Somewhat shaken from the blow to the head is all.  He’s resting in another room, but I didn’t want to leave you alone.  Not after what you went through for me.”

Cassandra could feel her face reddening at the praise.  “I was simply repaying a debt.  You were taken covering my retreat.  I couldn’t leave you behind.”   _But that wasn’t the only reason I had to save you.  I just don’t have the words to explain._

“Even still, I owe you thanks.  I always knew you were persistent, but what you did yesterday was remarkable.”  

The bard bent down and ran her hand across Cassandra’s forehead.  It was only a friendly gesture, but it was still enough to make her skin burn.  Trying to hide her reaction, she said, “I don’t seem to be as injured as before.  Who do I have to thank for that?”

Leliana gave her a mischievous grin.  “Mother Corday, bien sur.  She kept a good supply of healing potions on her person that I was able to appropriate.  You will still need your rest, but they have helped the process along a great deal.”

“And you?  Are you… all right?”  Looking at the beautiful bard, Cassandra didn’t see any injuries, but the Maker only knew what those monsters might have done to her while she was their captive.

Thankfully, Leliana nodded, her smile never leaving her face.  “I’m fine.  A few bruised ribs and some cuts, but nothing near as serious as your wounds were.  Corday had hoped to win me to her cause, so I was spared the worst of what might have been.”

Cassandra exhaled, saying a silent prayer of thanks to the Maker for that small blessing.  She knew Leliana had suffered terrible torments after Marjolaine's betrayal and the thought of her going through that again would have been unbearable.  Leliana meant more to her than it was easy to admit, even to herself, and she had no idea how to tell her friend.

She didn’t even know where to begin. Leliana had always been something of an enigma during their years working together.  While she had been open about her history of bedding other women, the Seeker had no idea what Leliana might say if she actually found the strength to come clean.  Cassandra had just battled nearly a dozen men with a wound in her side and yet the thought of confessing her feelings terrified her.

Strangely, it wasn’t the sight of the beautiful woman at her bedside that pushed Cassandra to act, it was Varric’s earlier words.  The insufferable little man had been getting on her nerves since the second they met and yet for all his annoyances, he had recognized the truth.  She did love Leliana, too much to just let it go.  Even if it meant suffering through her beloved rejecting her, she had to try.

Leliana had noticed how quiet Cassandra had grown and so she laid a hand on the woman’s leg through the covers of her bed.  “Cassandra?”

The Seeker shut her eyes and took a deep breath.  She didn’t know how to begin a conversation like this.  As much as she loved to read tales of romance, she herself was something of a fool when it came to the subject.

“Leliana, may I speak with you about something.... personal?”

The redhead tilted her head to one side, a playful smile appearing on her face.  “Personal?  This is a first.  By all means, speak your mind.”

“We have known each other for quite some time." 

“We have.”

Cassandra swallowed hard, finding that her throat had gone dry.  “I...I am not experienced at things like this.”

Leliana furrowed her brows.  “Things like what?  Cassandra, I fear you’re not making much sense.  Are you feeling alright?”

“What I’m trying to say is…”  Cassandra sat up straight but immediately regretted the action when a low throb of a pain in her head made her groan and clutch at its source.

Leliana sprang into action, bringing the Seeker a cloth soaked in cold water.  “Here, this should help.”

Cassandra fell back into silence as Leliana dabbed at her forehead.  “Corday would have squeezed out everything she could, and then probably killed me.”  Leliana’s voice was just above a whisper.  “And what kept me strong wasn’t my faith in the Maker.   It was knowing that you’d come for me.  I owe you everything, Cassandra.”

Without saying a word, Cassandra reached up and wrapped her hand around Leliana’s arm. She lowered the cloth away from her face and stared into the bard’s eyes.  This had to be said; she just had to be brave enough to do it.

“Leliana, I...I care for you. I have for a very long time.”

The bard smiled.  “And I for you. You’re a good friend, Cassandra.”

“No. I mean…”  Suddenly an idea from one of Varric’s damned books popped into her head, one of those smutty romance novels she hated to enjoy as much as she did.  She leaned forward and without further hesitation, she brought her lips together with Leliana’s.  They were wonderfully soft but the kiss was short and awkward, ending when Cassandra lost her nerve, pulling away and dipping her head while her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

“I… I am sorry.  I should not have done that.”

There was a tense silence between them before Cassandra felt Leliana’s hand on her thigh. “The only thing you shouldn’t have done was wait so long.”

Cassandra’s eye widened in shock but before she could manage any reply, Leliana leaned down and caught her mouth once more.  This time, it was a proper kiss.  The bard coaxed her lips apart, and her tongue slid inside.  It was as sweet as Cassandra had dreamed, and a low moan escaped her throat while Leliana’s arms wrapped around her.  The kiss went on even as the bard lowered her back onto the bed, only ending when they both had to breath.  

“You already knew how I felt?”, the Seeker panted, her head spinning, and not from her wounds.

“But of course. I am the Left Hand, after all.”  Leliana wore a playful smile that had become too rare over the years.  “But you needed to be ready to tell me yourself.”  Cassandra had no idea what to say to that, but fortunately Leliana made the next move.  She lay down next to her, running one hand through Cassandra’s short hair while the other came to rest on her side, stroking it affectionately.  “I know you’re still healing,” she told her.  “So there’s no need for us to rush things if you don’t want to.”

Cassandra wasn’t well, it was true.  Her side ached and her head was fuzzy.  But she didn’t care.  Everywhere Leliana touched her, the skin tingled, and between her legs, she could already feel a deeper ache building, the lure of pleasures she’d only been able to dream of.  “I’m well enough,” she reassured the bard, fighting back tears of joy at the realization that she was wanted.  “We have waited long enough.”  She hesitated before adding, “But I’m afraid I don’t really know where to start.”

“Don’t worry.”  Leliana’s voice lowered to a seductive purr that sent shivers running down Cassandra’s spine.  “I’ll take care of everything."

 

Leliana had already partially undressed Cassandra when she put her to bed, simplifying her task now.  Her hands slid beneath the Seeker’s undershirt, lifting it up above her stomach.  She had seen Cassandra changing before when they travelled, but the prospect of what was coming made this time different.  She drank in the tight muscles of her fellow Hand’s stomach, running her fingers over their lines.  There were bandages over the the places where Cassandra had been cut and shot, but Leliana didn’t mind them.  They were reminders of what had been done for her, only enhancing the other woman’s charms.

Cassandra sighed at her touch, and Leliana bent down, catching her lips for another long kiss.  “I’ve wanted this longer than you know,” she whispered in her ear once it ended.  “You are really quite impressive.”  Her fingers trailed upwards, and the Seeker raised her arms, letting Leliana remove her shirt.  Cassandra bit her lip, clearly discomforted by the motion, and the bard kissed the base of her throat.  “I can stop if you need me to.”

“No.”  The was such raw need dripping from that one word that it was all Leliana needed to hear.  Her mouth inched lower then, moving on to Cassandra’s breasts.  They were full and firm, topped by sensitive, brown nipples that she pulled between her lips, sucking on them one after the other.  The Seeker’s fingers were tangled in her long hair now, tugging gently at it while making small gasping noises in response to each motion of her tongue.  

There was something delicious about the contrast between the soft sounds and the powerful warrior making them, and a wave of desire ran through Leliana’s body.  Though she had more experience than Cassandra, she had been too long without the touch of someone she cared for like this.  Her pleasure could come later, though.  Now, she needed to properly reward the woman who had endured so much on her behalf.

“Please,” Cassandra begged when she managed to find her words again, “I want to look at you too.”

“Of course.”  Leliana sat back up, unbuttoning her blouse and sliding it off before doing the same with her bra.  Cassandra’s dark eyes were locked onto her body, her gaze completely rapt.  Leliana never knew how her lovers might react to the scars her adventures and captivity had left her with, but the Seeker didn’t seem to care.  Deciding to tease a little bit, the bard ran her fingers over the stiff, pink tips of her own nipples, enjoying the hard swallow that elicited, before resuming her ministrations.

She began sliding downwards again, her tongue tracing along the firm plane of Cassandra’s abdomen, placing kisses near enough to the wounds to show her affection without risking fresh pain.  The Seeker’s center was only covered by a simple pair of smallclothes and Leliana smiled when she saw the patch of wetness at their center.

“Eager, I see,” she laughed.

She could feel Cassandra’s body tense beneath her.  “I… I suppose I am.”

“There is nothing to be ashamed of, ma cherie.  I want you to want me.”

The reply was quiet, but also certain.  “Maker, I do.”

The Seeker relaxed a little bit, and Leliana removed her underwear, exposing her slick sex.  She ran her digits along it slowly at first, letting the bard savor the choked sounds that drew forth.  With two fingers, she spread Cassandra, and beneath the folds, the head of her clit was pulsing, hard and needy in front of her.  She lowered her head, drinking in the rich, heavy arousal that filled her nostrils before her tongue darted out, running across the bud.

Cassandra’s hips bucked and the bard took hold of them, guiding her lover into her mouth.  The hard clit pulsed between her lips, and she ran her tongue down its length while she started sucking.  Cassandra’s hand went back to her head, groaning as she rocked back and forth desperately.

“Oh Leliana,” the Seeker mumbled, “That’s…”  She didn’t manage to finish her sentence, but as her wetness coated the bard’s chin, Leliana got the idea.  Her hands caressed Cassandra’s hips, easing her toward the climax she knew was building.  In the nights to come, she’d make sure to show her lover the joys of patience, drawing her pleasure out over delicious hours, but for now the Seeker was too weak and too desperate for that.  She needed to come, and Leliana needed to feel it.

She kept up a steady pace, making smooth, even strokes across the throbbing clit in her mouth while Cassandra gasped and her grip tightened along with her thighs, pressing against Leliana’s head.  The bard suckled harder, and it wasn’t long before the tension released.

There was a moment of stillness and then Cassandra’s body jerked, the other woman letting out the most beautiful cries of pleasure as she came undone.  The bard kept sucking, but more gently now, savoring every tremble and aftershock that she coaxed out.  Only when the Seeker finally slumped down on the bed, spent, did she pull back, licking off the thick fluid that was coating her face.  She gave Cassandra an affectionate smile, enjoying the lovely sight of the naked body spread out beneath her.

“You look absolutely beautiful, my love.”

“So… so do you,” the Seeker panted.  “And thank you for that.”

“It was my pleasure.”  She bent down and kissed her new lover, pleased that Cassandra didn’t recoil from her own taste.  There was still a heavy pressure between her own legs, a desire that going down on the warrior had only inflamed, but that was all right.  She could be patient.

 

Cassandra propped herself up on her elbow and looked across the bed at the beautiful woman lying next to her. For so long, she’d only dreamed of seeing Leliana like this, and the experience had been everything she could have hoped for.  Still, it occurred to her that the bard had been left unsatisfied and while Cassandra had no idea how to go about remedying that, she knew she had to try.

“Leliana…”, she mumbled nervously.

The bard smiled warmly at her, trailing her fingers lazily along Cassandra’s abs. “Yes?”

“Perhaps you could take off the rest of your clothes…”

Leliana shook her head.  “Cassandra, you should rest.  Maker knows you’ve been through enough these past few days. There will be other times for us to… enjoy one another’s company.”

“You’re right, but, please,”  Cassandra urged and laid her hand over Leliana’s. “I’d still like to try.”

The bard closed her eyes as she deliberated, but then she gave a silent nod and rose to her feet beside the bed.  She quickly unbuckled her belt and slid her tight breeches off.  A moment later, her damp underwear followed suit and Leliana tossed her garments aside, leaving her completely nude.

Cassandra’s eyes ran over the impressive sight.  The bard was so beautiful, her body lean and fit, the pale skin of her legs practically begging to be touched, with a patch of red hair residing above their apex.  Leliana climbed back on the bed, and situated herself at the base of the mattress, spreading her thighs.

The Seeker grunted as she pulled herself over to meet her, pushing aside her discomfort for another kiss.  “Just go slowly,” Leliana told her, sensing her uncertainty, “And think about what feels good to you.”

Cassandra nodded, and slid downwards, kissing along that creamy skin before positioning herself between Leliana’s legs.  She figured she would start simple and with one hand, she ran over the bard’s slick folds before looking up to Leliana’s face. The redhead nodded in encouragement and Cassandra brought two fingers up to her entrance, slowly working them inside her tight heat.  Leliana clamped down around her, and Cassandra felt a thrill at the feeling.

Thankfully, it wasn’t too different from touching herself, and the little moans she drew from Leliana as she worked her hand in and out of her were utterly intoxicating.  But she could tell the bard needed more than just her fingers, and she was eager to taste her skin.

Cassandra shifted upwards and buried her face in her lover’s chest.  Her tongue darted out and she circled it around the stiff point of Leliana’s left breast, eliciting louder cries.

“You’re a natural,” Leliana purred in-between her moans.  “Now suck on them.”

Following orders, Cassandra captured her lover’s left nipple between her lips while her thumb dragged through her folds, searching out her clitoris.  It was trickier to do then on her own body, but a sharp sigh told her when she’d found her mark.  She stroked the hard ridge while two of her fingers thrust into that wonderful, clinging heat.  The bard’s instructions turned to high-pitched screams and Cassandra found her self-assurance growing.

 “Yes!  Just like that!”, Leliana cried out.

The Seeker pumped her hand with increased fervor as she flicked her tongue over the nipple between her lips.  Streams of wetness ran down her hand and soon enough, she heard Leliana let out a throaty moan, her head tilting back.  The bard’s back arched and her inner walls fluttered, clamping down around the fingers buried inside of her.  Her body shivered, the aftershocks running through her as Cassandra kept sucking on her breast.

When Leliana’s chest finally stopped heaving, she pulled Cassandra up for a passionate kiss.  “What was that you said about not going to bed with other women?”

Cassandra blushed.  “I have not!”

“Then you are truly a swift learner.”

The Seeker blushed at the praise, but she hesitated before she spoke again.  Her wounds still nagged at her, but the pain seemed distant, overshadowed by the pleasant hum that filled her body, and she wasn’t ready to give up the feeling just yet.  “Is there… more you could show me?”

Leliana smiled at her eagerness, quickly laying down on her back.  “Surement.  Turn around and put your legs on either side of my head.”

Cassandra did as she was asked.  A fresh tug of her arousal ran through her at the sight of Leliana’s glistening sex even while she could feel the bard’s hot breath on her own.  “And now?”, she asked, her voice trembling with anticipation.

“Now, follow what I do,” Leliana purred before she leaned forward and began to eat out the Seeker once more.

After her first, sharp cries passed, Cassandra caught on and bent down to bury her face between Leliana’s legs.  It was an ingenious position where they were able to simultaneously pleasure each other, but Cassandra found her nerves returning when she realized she didn’t know what to do.  She decided to heed Leliana’s advice and just replicate the bard’s skilled motions as best she could.

Cassandra focused on the wondrous movements of Leliana’s tongue as it worked inside of her, and at last, she decided she was ready to make her own attempt.  She felt positively awkward but she penetrated Leliana’s folds with her tongue, lapping up the sweet taste of the other woman’s arousal.  The answering moan of approval thrilled her and with renewed confidence, the Seeker increased her pace.

Soon enough, however, Leliana moved on to the next stage.  Her tongue withdrew and she wrapped her lips around Cassandra’s clit, a low hum sending delicious vibrations through her body. The Seeker’s muscles tensed as the pleasure surged through her.  She’d never felt anything quite like Leliana’s tongue and it was driving her mad with desire.  Eager to reciprocate, Cassandra captured the bard’s clitoris in her mouth and swiped her tongue over the bud. It was nothing short of pure bliss.  The feeling of being pleasured by the woman she loved as she simultaneously returned the favor was incredible.  A part of Cassandra wished that the moment would never end.  That they could forget about the war, about the Champion and the Divine, and simply stay here in this bed for the rest of their days.

The sweet taste and scent of the Nightingale filled Cassandra’s senses.  A moan passed her lips as she felt Leliana’s hands reach up to massage her tight ass. The feeling of her lover’s raw passion, her strong fingers kneading into her cheeks as she continued to work the Seeker’s clit was driving Cassandra wild.  Soon enough, she found she couldn’t even focus on pleasuring Leliana herself and she withdrew, gasping for air between her loud cries.  A perfect warmth spread through her and as she tipped over the edge, Cassandra rested her cheek on Leliana’s inner thigh, riding out the waves of bliss that filled her body.

As the feeling ebbed, though, Cassandra was dismayed to find her pleasure replaced with the painful aching she’d been doing a good job of ignoring, her head and side throbbing far less pleasantly than her clit.  Above her though, there was the feel of Leliana’s hand on her back, drawing her attention to that soothing touch.

“How do you feel, my love?”, the bard asked.

“I am fine,” she claimed, trying to push aside her lingering discomfort and see to Leliana’s pleasure.  “I should continue what I was doing.  You did not...”

Leliana was not so easily persuaded, easing Cassandra off of her before joining the Seeker at the head of the thankfully spacious bed.  “Do not worry.  You have already given me a great deal of pleasure,” Leliana assured her, “And the rhythms of that particular activity are not easy to master.”  She gave Cassandra an affectionate kiss on the lips.  “You should be proud of yourself.  Many find it difficult to bring a woman to even one peak their first time.”  The bard smirked slightly.  “Men, especially.”

Cassandra allowed herself to smile as well.  “I am glad to hear that.  You are… I know it is not always easy for me to say what I feel, but before… what you called me…  I love you too, Leliana.  It’s important that I give you what you need.”

“You certainly did.”  Leliana smiled and looking into the bard’s light eyes, Cassandra knew she was telling the truth.  She let her performance anxiety go, just enjoying the lingering hum between her legs and the feel of the naked woman next to her.  Leliana stroked her lazily as they lay there, her touch relaxing the Seeker’s weary body.  “Besides, I really must insist that you get your rest,” the bard told her.  “We have a long journey ahead of us.”

“Will you stay with me?”

“Toujours.”  Leliana nuzzled up against her side, careful not to put fresh pressure on the wounds there, and Cassandra could feel her breathing slowing while a peace settled over her thoughts.  Her lover…. the word was incredible for her to think... was right; they still had a hard road ahead of them, and a perilous Conclave.  In addition to all its other dangers, she didn’t know what Justinia would think of her Hands’ new relationship.  And yet, for one of the few times in her life, Cassandra was not merely content, she was, however briefly, happy.

 

The sun beat down hard the next morning on the hitching post outside the Dancing Arl.  With the horses they’d appropriated from Mother Corday saddled up, their party was ready to resume its journey to the Conclave.  From under the inn’s porch cover, Varric stood in the shade and took a long puff from his pipe as he watched Cassandra help Leliana mount her horse.

The man had seen everything from demons to dragons and yet nothing captured Varric’s imagination quite like a good romance.  Sure, the Seeker was about as pleasant as a wild wyvern but after all the hardship he and Cassandra had been through to reunite her with the Nightingale, he was pleased to see the way Cassandra’s hand lingered on Leliana’s leg.

Soon enough, the short-haired woman turned to him.  “Varric, are you ready to go?”

He nodded.  “I suppose. Here’s hoping the Divine at least has a good mug of ale waiting for us when we arrive.”

Cassandra crossed her arms, clearly unamused, but a moment later she spoke in a softer tone than Varric was used to.  “I should thank you.”

The writer arched an eyebrow and chewed on the end of his pipe.  “Thank me?  Why Seeker, I must still be woozy from that blow to my head.”

“I would not have been able to rescue her without your help.”

He shrugged at Cassandra’ admission.  “Bianca did all the heavy lifting.”

The Seeker rolled her eyes and a minute later, all three were in their saddles, riding the trail to the Conclave side by side.  The sun was warming the back of his neck and Varric looked over, smirking when he saw Leliana reach out and take Cassandra’s hand in hers.

 _Well, I think I have the title for my next book,_ he thought suddenly. “The Seeker and the Nightingale: A Tale of Violence, Heroism and True Love.”  He grinned when he thought of the coin the story might bring him, at least assuming the Divine didn’t have him killed, that was.  But that was a problem for another day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's a wrap on the story. Thanks to everyone who read, commented, and left kudos. We really appreciate it.


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